Harry Potter and the Enchanter's Daughter
by J. Katrina Fitch
Summary: Harry's back at Hogwart's for another exciting... yet dangerous year. Everything's amplified as Voldemort's back to stregnth, and the people that Harry could once trust are now his enemies. Mysterious blackouts, dis-embodied voices, and one very trecherou
1. Beginnings, Endings, and Consequenses

  
" Harry James Potter is fifteen tomorrow…"  
Fifteen! I never would've thought he'd survive to be fifteen… always getting into some kind of mess or another.  
Arabella Figg sat in a dark office facing her supervisor, Mundungus Fletcher.  
She studied the lines on his middle-aged face. Hasn't aged well, has he? She thought. Gray hairs everywhere, an' he's getting all pasty…z  
"…and we must see that he lives to see his sixteenth birthday…"  
That was the way Mud talked. Like everybody has all day, and you'd better think on what he's just said or he won't even bother to go on.  
Arabella hated this. Everyone hated this. She looked around for confirmation. Remus, slouching in his chair, was trying to stay awake in between sentences. Sirius, who was looking much better now that he was eating again, was the opposite. He was sitting with his back rigid and unyielding, paying ever so much attention- even during the long pauses… but he wasn't really looking at Mud, now was he? Bell followed his gaze. He was staring out the window that was behind Mud, watching a butterfly…  
" …since, as you are all aware of, Voldemort has returned." Everybody snapped back into attention at this; Remus stopped slouching, Sirius re-directed his gaze to Mud's weary face, and  
Arabella's eyes focused.  
" So this is what I want you all to do…"  
Another pause.  
" Remus," Mud said, turning to him, " you are to be expected at Hogwarts by eleven tonight. You are to check all of the Hogwart's grounds," Mud put much emphasis on the word all, " for anything unusual. If a teacher blinks irregularly- if a suit of armor creaks too much- I want to know. We can't risk something happening like it did last year. When you're done with that, you're to be the new Potions teacher, as Snape… well, you know…"  
We all remember getting the news of Harry Potter's duel with Voldemort… and that he had survived only to risk being killed again by yet another Death-Eater who happened to be posing as a Hogwart's teacher…and they also remembered Dumbledore telling them that Serverus Snape would be returning to Voldemort as a spy.  
" Bell, you are to go with him. Congratulations," he said sardonically, " you're to be the next Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher." There was a number of half-willed claps and murmurs around the large oak table.  
" What?" Bell said, looking at him incredulously, " I can't be… really? Dumbledore agreed to that?"  
Mud nodded. " He did… said you'd do a fine job…"  
" I hope so… Dumbledore's never done that before, has he? Let someone else choose a teacher or whatnot?"  
Mud sighed, " Yes, and look where it got him. Two death-eaters, one obliviator, and a werewolf," he glanced at Remus.  
" The werewolf was best," added Sirius, grinning.  
" The werewolf could've eaten one of the children…" Remus murmured, looking at his shoes. He could never quite forgive himself for that night…  
" Getting back on subject…" Mud said, " Sirius, you and I are going to go into Animal form, and we are going to patrol the Forbidden Forest for the school year." Sirius groaned and Mud gave him an austere look. " We need to. Guarding and patrolling all of the main enterances and exits and grounds of Hogwart's to make sure that everyone inside is safe-" he looked around, " Is what our job is this year. C'mon people, we can't risk this."  
" Is everyone clear?" He asked, and stood up when they nodded. Just then, when Bell was least expecting it, he gave a great sigh and transformed into a raven. Bell turned away. She detested watching Mud or Sirius transform… it was just weird. First, for instance, Mud's head got as small as a raven's, then he grew wings, and then the rest of him shrunk- and then---oh you get the point.  
When a raven and a dog stood in their place, Sirius and Mud tan and flew out of the room, leaving Remus and Bell alone.  
" I don't know about this…" Bell turned to Remus. He wrapped her in a tight hug.  
" We'll make it through, Bella, don't worry." She loved the way he called her Bella instead of Bell. It was just so, so romantic…  
" At least we'll be together," he offered, seeing the look on Bell's face.  
She smiled up at him. They'd been having sort of a secret fling for more than a year now, and, to tell the truth, Bell was all ready to make it an open relationship…  
" Let's go, then," she said, and apparated with a small pop.  
Harry Potter was having a dream about frogs. There were frogs everywhere, millions of them, climbling on his bed, climbling on his head… oh look there, said dream- Harry, you just made a rhyme. The frog on Harry's head looked down at him and said , " Well, aren't you special," in a really snotty French accent. Dream-Harry decided that he didn't like being insulted by a French frog, so he yelled up at the ceiling, " Yes, er, Harry, could you please re-route your dream? I'm thinking a dream featuring Cho Chang would be in order right about now…" he grinned and waited…and waited…and waited… the frogs were climbling all over him, one was looking in his mouth…  
And quite suddenly Harry woke up. It was a Wednesday, about seven o'clock in the morning… and it was also his fifteenth birthday. Looking around, he noticed that someone had sent him two parcels each, both bulging and brightly wrapped. Harry leaped off the bed and attacked them, much to the surprise and bewilderment of Hedwig, his snowy owl. Harry tore through the first package, which was from Ron. It was a Chudley Cannons hat, complete with a moving player in bright orange. Ron had also included, in the next package, several mince pies, some chocolate frogs, some ice mice, and a pack of exploding snap. Harry grinned broadly and read his letter.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Happy Birthday! How've you been doing? I hope you're well, as everyone's been worrying like mad, and they won't listen to me when I told them that Dumbledore said you're safe, but oh well. I would really like you to come and stay, but I don't think it's a good idea.  
  
Harry groaned. He was well looking forward to the annual Weasley invitation.  
  
Dad agrees with me. Seems like he's the only one who'll listen. Of course my Mom's been asking at least three times a week, and so has Ginny, ( with a very red face, mind you,) but he keeps telling them that your safer at those muggles' house. I don't get it, Harry. I just don't get why you're safer there than you can be here. That's definitely something that we need to figure out… whatdaya say?  
Write Back,  
Ron  
  
Harry agreed. They'd have to find that out. He wondered if they should just straight away ask Dumbledore, or if they shouldn't, because if it was really important Dumbledore would have told him already. Harry hated the always-existent, non-adventurous little voice in the back of his head. Pushing that out of it, he turned to open Hermione's gift, and almost fell over. Hermione's gift had left it's place on the floor where it had been, and was now levitating about three feet in the air. Harry, who couldn't help gaping, slowly and carefully unwrapped the parcel, which was getting higher by the moment. What in the hell can this be, he thought as he fought to unwrap the package. It was a sphere, a gold one, and it had PRESS HERE in very large purple letters on the front. Harry did, and it developed wings all of a sudden. Harry got it. It was a model of a snitch, a very slow one at the moment, but it was cool none the less. He ripped open Hermione's second package, or what he thought would be Hermione's second present, and was puzzled to find a large tin of assorted candies… all hard as a rock. Opening the letter, he stared at them, and didn't realize that they weren't from Hermione until he saw the untidy scrawl that inhabited the page.  
  
Dear Harry,  
Happy Birthday! Do yeh like my candies? Made 'em myself. Listen, Harry, this year I'm gonna be gone on- well I guess you could call it a mission. I won' be at Hogwarts till late April if everythin' goes well. I think you'll be very pleased when you find out who the teacher's gonna be, but I'm not gonna tell yeh, because that would ruin the surprise. Have a good Brithday an' be careful, Harry.  
Hagrid  
  
Harry sighed happily and then cringed when he heard, " Get up, boy!" from downstairs. " Hmm… seven-fifteen, a new record," he said bitterly, checking his watch. He decided that Hermione's letter would have to wait until he was done with his chores. Harry stood up and got dressed in his regular muggle clothes, thinking of the ' light at the end of the tunnel' that was his last year at Hogwarts. That would mark the end of his enslavement at the Dursley's, because then he would be a fully qualified wizard, and able to live on his own. But hey, he thought, cheering a bit, maybe Sirius'll be cleared by then and I can go live with him. He trampled down the stairs and found himself face-to-face with Aunt Petunia.  
" G'morning," he said to her optimistically, ignoring her look of contempt. Harry passed her and went to go hunt down breakfasat.  
" You are to weed the garden, scrub the kitchen floor, and," a torturing smile crossed her face, " clean the 2nd floor bathroom. All this is to be done by eleven this morning, as we are going to brunch and the races with the Aurthurs for the remainder of the day."  
He opened his mouth to say, " and I'll be staying here?" when she answered his question for him.  
" And, no, you can't stay here. Goodness knows what messes you'd get yourself in. You are to be staying with Mrs. Figg across the street."  
Harry wouldn't give her the satisfaction of a groan as he sat down to scarf down his cereal. Mrs. Figg isn't all that bad, at least she lets me watch all the Television I want…  
" Hurry up, boy," barked Uncle Vernon when he came in. " We need you out of here by eleven!"  
" Oh, but I don't want to leave," muttered Harry sardonically, " I want to stay here and scrub bloody toilets all day…"  
" I'm sure that can be arranged," said Uncle Vernon acidly as he sat down, and Harry was startled because he didn't realize that his beefy, dim Uncle had heard him. With one last spoonful of cereal, Harry stood up and walked out to the garden. It was probably ninety degrees out today, and, scowling, Harry went to check the outdoor thermometer. Sure enough, his suspicions were confirmed when he read 93.4º. Bloody slave-driver has me working in hot, muggy, conditions like these, he thought. Wonder if a freezing charm would get me a letter from the Ministry?  
Truth was, Harry knew it would, and he knelt down to begin de-weeding the garden.  
***  
So, at ten o'clock, Harry trudged through the back door and into the kitchen, only to be met by Aunt Petunia's screeches telling him to step on the freakin' towels, and was he stupid? Harry, much to her further angriness, replied that he must be because he was living with a group of slave-driving muggles. At the word ' muggle,' Aunt Petunia picked up her broom, screeching even louder, and Harry narrowly avoided a blow to the side of the head. Harry- be it for good or bad- was becoming increasing hostile with the Dursleys, and he really wasn't holding anything back. This, so far, had gotten him two swats and a clunk on the head. Seekers weren't seekers for nothing, mind you, so Harry got away most of the time.  
" Guess I'll do the upstairs bathroom first, eh?" he called to her as he sprinted up the stairs.  
This, he thought miserably, is what it's going to be like for the next month…  
Arabella Figg was sitting in the Hogwart's express, twiddling her thumbs. She had memories of Hogwarts- bad ones as well as good. Mostly bad. Of kids shunning her because she was different. That's the way it worked, wasn't it? Be the same as everyone else, have no true identity, and be accepted. It was still like that today. Sad, sad thing, it was…. She remembered Remus, on graduation day, when they were talking about marriage, telling her that he was a werewolf and no, he couldn't still marry her and was she crazy? He was bitter then. Didn't want anything but pity. But, being young and stupid, Bell didn't give him any of what he needed, and he left. Therefore, for about ten years that was that. No more Remus and Bella. No more this and that. For Bell, it had been the worst ten years of her life. For Remus, well God knows what happened to Remus those years. All Bell knew was that he'd showed up on her doorstep looking like a drowned dog, and begged her to take him back ten years after he'd left her. Bell smiled and looked over to a sleeping Remus. She was glad she did. And so for a year, they dated, and Bell talked Remus into marriage successfully, and they were over to James and Lily's place to tell them about it…  
" Bella?" Bell turned and smiled at Remus, who had gotten up during the time she was lost in her thoughts.  
" Hey there Re. Thought you'd died on me."  
" Yes, well I thought you'd turned into a vegetable when I was sleeping…" He grinned at her.  
" Yes, well you've been sleeping for three hours. I was about to go over there and shake you awake."  
Remus pouted. " Why didn't you? I think I might have enjoyed it," he stood and sat next to her.  
Bell glanced at Re. Re gazed back.  
" You were thinking about Hogwarts, weren't you?"  
" Yes."  
" And you were thinking about graduation…"  
How well did he know her?  
She turned to face him. " Yes. And how every time we want to get married something awful happens."  
" Well," Remus exhaled loudly, " do you think we were meant to get married?"  
" Honestly," she said slowly, " I think that if two people love each other-" she thought of all the murders, the illnesses, and the horrible, unrelenting tragedy…  
" Then marriage shouldn't mean anything."  
They embraced, and Bell was just about to smile when the plump witch that usually carried the lunch cart burst in.  
" Arablla," she said, chest heaving with emotion, " it's your mother…"  
***  
Harry Potter was finished with his chores at ten-fifty nine. Sweaty and cursing, he slogged down the stairs again, and was met by Dudley.   
" D' you know what?" he said, in between bites of a large piece of chocolate cake in his hand.  
Harry, both disgusted and annoyed, snapped, " No."  
" Well I'm going' t tell you." Dudley blocked the doorway-- which was easy for him, considering his size, and held Harry back.   
" Please, why don't you spare yourself the trouble and leave me alone?"   
Dudley smirked broadly, and you could see bits of cake in his teeth as he said, " I know today's your birthday."   
Harry, who was going to spew in a second, nodded and said, " Well spotted."   
Dudley, however, did not move. He simply stood there and looked as if he was deciding what to bother Harry about next.  
" Well," said Harry, growing impatient and checking his watch, " shouldn't you get going? It's eleven o'clock."   
" We're not going."   
" Why not?"   
" Because that would mean leaving you with the crazy witch lady next door… and Dad and Mum said that-"  
Harry didn't wait for anything more. He turned right around and walked out the back door.   
Not knowing what to possibly expect, he circled the yard and headed for Mrs. Figg's house.   
What he saw there made his stomach reel and he almost fell over.   
The bright, green, forbidding symbol of Voldemort was floating fifty feet above the ground, right above Mrs. Figg's house.  
Then, all of a sudden, Harry heard a small pop right behind him. Acting on his first impulse, he ducked, and sure enough, a booming voice shouted " Obliviate!" where his head had been.   
" Stop! Stop! I'm- I'm a wizard!" he said, covering his face with his hands.   
" Harry?" said the voice cautiously, and he recognized it as Mr. Weasley's.  
" M-Mr. Weasley! What are you doing here?"   
Aurthur Weasley looked down at Harry with tiredness, relief, and recognition.   
" I was the closest, Harry." He pressed his hand to his eyes, and, glancing at the old Victorian house across from him, added, " I remember this…"   
Arthur Weasley ambled to the house slowly. Harry realized that Voldemort could still even be in the house… and if he was…  
" Mr. Weasley! Wait!" Harry shouted after him.   
Mr. Weasley turned around slowly.   
" What if… what if-"  
" ARTHUR!" Harry looked beside him, where Dedalus Diggle had just popped up.   
" Arthur, wait! He's still there! He's still -"  
Just then, a bright green flash of light engulfed them and Harry heard a deafening crash.   
When the light subsided, he could see that a large hole had been blown into the top of Mrs. Figg's house.   
" Not anymore," Mr. Weasley and Diggle said simultaneously, before running towards it.   
Arabella sat in Dumbledore's office, shaking and sobbing. Remus was holding and comforting her, but could only do so much. Bell had just lost her mother, her only living relative, to the same monster who had killed her father, her brother, her aunt and uncle, and her grandmother. It was because of Voldemort that she was alone right now. She looked up at Remus. Not entirely alone, a voice in her head prompted. But nothing, nobody, could ever replace family. Nobody. Not even Remus.   
" Arabella," said Dumbledore, his voice full of sorrow, " I'm so sorry." He paused, looked down, and, glancing at her, added, " if there's anything I can do-"  
Bell looked up, the grief and sadness in her eyes replaced by anger, " Yes, Professor Dumbledore, there is something you can do." She stood up, walked over to one of his large bay windows, and sighed heavily. " For forty years, our people have watched their loved ones die mercilessly at the hands of a monster." She turned to face him, " A monster," her voice broke, " that no-no one will even say the name of."   
Dumbledore started to speak but she held her hand up to silence him. " This cannot go on for yet another forty years. I, for one, will not let it." She sat in one of the chairs adjacent to his oak desk, " and I want you to help me."   
  
Harry Potter was in the middle of one of the biggest messes of his life. Police cars were everywhere, as were ministry officials. Right and left you could hear loud, booming voices shouting, " OBLIVIATE!"   
There were Privet Drive residents roaming the street, wobbling, after they had just gotten their memories modified, telling him to have a Happy New Year and that sort of thing. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had, aware of everything that was going on and even perhaps why, barricaded themselves and Dudley in number four, and whenever Harry glanced over to see what in the bloody hell they were doing, he could see Aunt Petunia's bony face peeking through the curtains, shouting at Uncle Vernon that they were still there and no, they didn't yet take Harry, or " the boy," with them. To be frank, Harry wished they would. Harry sighed, and walked over to Mr. Weasley.   
" Harry!" He said, looking surprised to see him there. " Harry, I've just gotten a message from Dumbledore. He wants you at Hogwarts immediately."   
Harry must have looked as though Christmas had come early, because Mr. Weasley smiled at him wearily. " The quickest way to get you there is on the Floo Network, and… and the closest person connected would be the late Mrs. Figg."   
Harry nodded grimly, and followed Mr. Weasley into the old, now dilapidated house. The familiar smell of cabbage filled his nostrils. Everywhere, in every corner, were Ministry Officials. Loads of them. Looking over at the large collection of pictures that Mrs. Figg had of every cat she'd ever owned, Harry was engulfed with sadness.   
"You know, I never knew she was a witch," Harry confided in Mr. Weasley, " I never even suspected…"  
After a long, uncomfortable pause, during which Mr. Weasley seemed to be debating to himself weather or not to say something, they both found themselves in front of the fireplace.   
" She-well, I suppose Dumbledore'll want to explain it to you himself, so off you go." Mr. Weasley took a small pouch from the inside of his cloak, conjured up a fire, and through a pinch of Floo Powder into it.   
" Thanks, Mr. Weasley," Harry said.  
Mr. Weasley gave him yet another weary smile. " Maybe Dumbledore will let you spend the Christmas Holiday with us this year, eh? We'd love to have you."   
" I'd like that, Mr. Weasley, thanks." Harrry stepped into the now bright green flames, feeling pleasantly like warm breath, and shouted a muffled " Hog-Hogwart's!" at the top of his lungs. Whirling through the endless swirl of color and light that was traveling by floo powder never did catch Harry's fancy, so he closed his eyes, tucked his elbows in, and focused on trying not to be sick. Harry landed on a cold stone floor, and, standing up, recognized his new surrounding area as the Hogwart's massive kitchen. At once, he was attacked- rather, greeted, by about twenty house-elves who were positively delighted to see him. In the crowd was Dobby, his old friend.  
" Harry Potter has come to see me!" he shouted, looking elated at the thought.   
" Er… hello Dobby. I… I'm here to-" he paused, not wanting to offend Dobby, " to- well, do you know where Professor Dumbledore is?"   
" Certainly, Harry Potter," he said, " Professor Dumbledore is upstairs in his office. Why is Harry Potter wanting to know?"   
Dobby always was extremely inquisitive, thought Harry, sighing. " Er, I think he wanted to see me," he paused, " and, Dobby, I'm to be staying here at Hogwarts until the term starts," Dobby's face lit up, " so I'll come down and see you as soon as I'm able."   
" That would please Dobby very much Harry Potter!" he shouted.   
Harry climbed out of the entrance smiling. He had enough éclairs and biscuits to last him all the way up to the gargoyle on the third floor- the entrance to Dumbledore office.   
Wandering through the hallways and through the secret compartments at Hogwarts was never boring, and as Harry had never been there in the summer, there was much to see. Hogwarts was an unusual place for many reasons, and one of them happened to be that all the rooms changed places now and then. This was a bitch for most of the first years, but for Harry, who had been at Hogwarts for four years, it was no problem. He easily got to the gargoyle on the third floor, with only minor setbacks involving Peeves the Poltergeist chucking bottles of empty Mrs. Skewer's All- Purpose Magical Mess Remover at him. Now, realized Harry, the only thing that was holding him back was the password.   
" Er… lets see… names of candies…" Harry scratched his head. " Er…Lemon Drop?"   
The stony gargoyle didn't budge an inch.   
" Er… Snickers?"   
Nothing.  
" Mr. Goodbar?"   
Nope.  
" Milkyway?"   
Try again.  
" 3 musketeers?"   
Sorry.  
" Er…" Harry tried more of his wizarding favorites.  
" Ice Mice?"   
Uh- uh.  
" Acid Pops?"   
Nope.  
" Pepper Imps?" he said, getting rather frantic.  
Nothing.  
" Droobles Best Blowing Gum?" said Harry, desperate by now and hoping that someone would eventually find him waiting out here… when the gargoyle sprang to life and stepped aside.   
Harry, pleased with himself, stepped onto the revolving marble staircase.   
As he neared the door to Albus Dumbledore's office, he could hear a woman crying softly. Unsure of what to do, Harry just stood there for about five minutes, not wanting to interrupt the Headmaster if he was in the middle of something important. About ten minutes later, the crying had stopped, Harry heard voices coming from behind the door.   
" But what is he going to do now? He has nowhere to go…"   
Harry strained to listen… that voice sounded oddly familiar….   
" I'm positive we can think of something," came the voice of Dumbledore, " It's just a matter of who now. We'd, of course, have to perform the Fideleus charm again. That could take a lot of effort from Harry…"   
So they were talking about him! Harry thought. Now he must hear what they're saying…   
" Yes. I remember very well the day we performed it last. Do you, Bella?"   
" Yes," came a small, weak voice, " yes I do. And I happen to think that there's no need for it."   
Silence.   
" Harry could stay at Hogwart's until he is capable to stay alone. You know very well, professor, that there is always someone residing at Hogwart's. And all who do are more than qualified to watch after a teenage boy."   
More silence. Harry could imagine Dumbledore stroking his beard, deep in thought.   
" You could be right, Arabella, although you must give me some time to think about this. Harry's social life must be taken into consideration…"   
What social life? thought Harry. His summers with the Dursley's were spent cleaning toilets and de-weeding the garden.   
" Perhaps his friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley could visit him now and then?" The other, male voice suggested. Harry recognized it this time. Sitting behind that door was none other than Remus Lupin, Harry's favorite teacher and good friend. Harry thought that since they were talking about him, and that he could identify two of the seemingly three people in Dumbledore's office, that it was okay to make himself known. He rapped three times on the oak door.   
" Aha, that'll be Harry now," he heard Dumbledore say, " Come in, Harry."   
Harry opened the door and stepped inside. Lupin, who was smiling, was  
sitting on a couch with the Arabella something or other. Dumbledore himself   
sat behind his vast oak desk. They all stood when he entered, and Lupin asked how he was doing.   
" Fine," replied Harry, shaking his hand, " and you?"   
" Not too good," he answered honestly, looking uncomfortable.   
The Arabella lady introduced herself as Professor Figg, and Harry recalled hearing the name Arabella Figg somewhere, although he couldn't place it. He then walked to Dumbledore, and was greeted by a serious and somewhat grave expression.   
" Headmaster Dumbledore," he said, shaking the man's hand, " how're you?"   
Dumbledore, his silvery beard glowing in the candlelight, nodded at Harry.   
" I am well, Harry, but we are not here to discuss my well- being. We're here to discuss yours."   
Harry sat down in one of the high-backed oak chairs and listened intently as Dumbledore spoke.  
" Harry," he began, " although you didn't know very much about your neighbor Mrs. Figg," he paused, thinking of the right words, " you must understand that her existence and presence were an immense factor regarding your safety."   
Harry, not sure how this could be, watched Dumbledore as he paced the room.   
" She was indeed a witch, and a very powerful one at that. By being your neighbor, Harry, she agreed to put away her normal lifestyle and live as a muggle- to keep an eye on you."   
Harry blinked.  
" And," Dumbledore stopped pacing and stood in front of Harry, " while we do not know how Voldemort detected this, we know that you are no longer safe at your Aunt and Uncle's house."   
Since this was a most grave subject, Harry ignored the leap in his stomach.  
" Harry," he continued, " the night your parents were murdered, Professor Lupin, Professor Figg, Sirius Black, Mundungus Fletcher, and myself performed a charm so powerful it has only been performed a handful of times." He sighed, " The Fidelius Charm is one that is placed over an area. In this case, it was both yours and Mrs. Figg's houses. It makes both areas invisible to those who do not want to harm the people within them. Only someone who both knows about the curse and does not want to harm you can enter."   
Harry sat back and tried to take in all of this. The Dursleys, whom had treated him so horrible for fifteen years of his life, were merely an extra safety precaution? And if Mrs. Figg was gone, then the curse was broken…  
" Er… Professor Dumbledore, sir," Harry said, " if the curse is broken, then do I still have to live with the Dursleys?"  
Dumbledore seemed to be thinking something over. Finally, he said " No. No you do not. There is no point in it, seeing as you aren't happy there,"   
Harry briefly wondered how he could possibly know this…  
" so, if it pleases the court," he glanced at Lupin and Professor Figg, " then you'll stay at Hogwarts for the remainder of this summer and the next summers as well."  
This was almost as good as saying Harry could go home with Sirius; now he was free of the Durselys, he would live in the castle permanently. Harry could not express his joy. He settled for a stammered thank you to Dumbledore and Professors Figg and Lupin. He half listened when Dumbledore told him the details of his stay- including that he was to stay in his regular dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, and that the meals were served at 7:30, 12, and 6, and that tea was at half past four. Afterward, Harry went up to the owlery to tell Ron and Hermione. Thinking of Hermione, he remembered that he'd forgotten to open her letter earlier. Thinking of her letter, he remembered that today was his birthday. Thinking he was doing too much thinking, he settled down to write the news to his friends. When Harry was finished, he tied the letter to one of the school owls and threw it out the window. Now what to do… he thought. Harry had never seen Hogwarts in the summer, so he decided to do some exploring.   
Wandering around the hallways of Hogwarts without purpose Harry found quite a few things; for one thing, he had stumbled upon some sort of extremely old tower, which was filled with odd instruments that he didn't recognize- and yet when he had looked for someone to share it with, and later returned, found it that it had disappeared and that in it's space was an overlarge Victorian window. Shrugging, Harry decided to go down to dinner- as it was almost six- and ran into Professor Lupin at the foot of the Grand Staircase.  
" All right, Harry?" He said, smiling.  
" Yeah, I'm fine. I just can't believe that I'm going to be spending my summers here!"   
" You don't mind, do you?" said Lupin, anxiously.   
" Not at all," replied Harry, " actually it's a very welcome change. I'll just have to talk to Professor Dumbledore about getting my stuff here."   
" Yes, yes that's moderately important, don't you think?" He winked. "Oh, and yes, I was going to wait until you asked, but since you didn't…" He trailed off, " I'm going to be your new potions teacher for this year."   
" YOU'RE JOKING!" Exclaimed Harry in disbelief and happiness.   
Lupin chuckled and walked toward the Grand Hall. Harry followed behind him, still in shock.   
" B-but what happened to Snape? He isn't- isn't hurt or something, is he?" He tried forcefully to keep the hopefulness from reaching his tone of voice.  
Lupin sighed and turned to face him. " I knew you were going to ask that. Knew it," he muttered to himself sounding just slightly mad, " Listen," he sighed again, " I can't tell you that. Wish I could but I can't. I'm sure if you'll remember the events and the planning and whatnot that occurred subsequent to your duel with You- Know- Who, you'll be able to put some of the pieces together.  
So," said Lupin, obviously changing the Subject, " How do you like Professor Figg?"   
" Professor Figg's going to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, right?"   
" Yep."   
" Yeah, she's okay. But why didn't you take that job?" Harry inquired.   
" Because I'm ready for something different. That's my job, Harry. Defense. Only," he added, laughing, " I doubt I top Ar- er- Professor Figg."   
When they arrived in the Great Hall, Harry found it looked not a bit unlike it did during Christmas, with only one large table adorning it.   
" Yes, but you were the best teacher we've ever had…" trailed off Harry as he sat down opposite Lupin. As they were the first to arrive, Harry thought he would be able to get some questions in regarding the existing faculty.   
" Well I thank you sincerely," said Lupin, his voice dripping with sarcasm. " Consitering the other- erm- extremely wonderful Defense teachers you've had."   
Harry grinned. " You sure you don't want to be the Defense Teacher?"  
" Yes," Lupin replied, drumming his fingers on the table impatiently. He sighed, " Yes, Harry I'm sure. Seriously, I want some variety. And you make it seem like Professor Figg's incompetent. She taught me some things you wouldn't believe-"  
Remus almost blushed at the hidden meaning to this-  
"Yeah well…"   
" What're you guys talking about, huh?"   
" You," said Lupin, staring up at her fondly.   
" Really?" said Professor Figg suspiciously. " Exactly what were you saying about me?"   
" We were just saying how wonderful and smart and caring and charismatic you are…" Lupin rambled on and Harry had to laugh. As Professor Figg sat down, Harry had a chance to study her. She was short, about a head and a half shorter than Lupin and curvy, with chin length black hair in a bob. Noticing Harry looking at her, she looked up and tipped her head.   
" What's up, kiddo?" Professor Figg grinned. " I guess we haven't had the opportunity to meet yet…" She extended a hand, which Harry shook, " I'm Arabella, or Professor Figg, as you'll be calling me. I'm to be your new Defense Teacher this year."   
" Nice to meet you," said Harry. He felt he should say something about Mrs. Figg, as part of the reason she died was due to his need for protection. Hot guilt slid down his chest as if he had swallowed a piece of fire. Unable to say much for an instant, Harry managed to choke out, " I knew your mother. She was a wonderful woman."   
Professor Figg seemed extremely saddened at this, although she remained smiling. " Yes, that she was…. I knew your mother," she added, " She was my best friend - sort of like your father and Remus here." She glanced at Remus. " I miss them every day. As," she gave a long sigh, " I will my mother. You-know- who is destroying more lives every day it seems," she sighed again and looked extremely tired, " and it's funny, you know…"she looked up and met Harry's eyes with forest green ones, " I never thought it could happen to me."   
***   
"Precarious as his last home environment was, Dumbledore, I cannot see how keeping Potter at Hogwarts to shelter him -"  
" Serverus, I have made my decision. I believe that being at Hogwarts will be in the best interests of Harry and it will also provide him with a loving family- the Hogwarts faculty."   
Serverus Snape sat silently seething at Dumbledore in his office. How could he and that dreaded troublemaker of a boy ever live in the same castle? Well, he thought miserably, at least I won't have to deal with him this year, because I'll be kissing You- Know- Who's ass. Serverus groaned and Dumbledore looked up.   
" Is something the matter?"   
" Yes," said Serverus narrowing his eyes at the Headmaster, " Yes there is." He stood up and started pacing. " This is not going to work."   
Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but Serverus held up a hand.  
" I will most likely be killed within an hour of returning. There are to many Death Eaters who know that I was an emissary," he sighed loudly, " and while You-Know-Who doesn't - well, I'm nearly persuaded that someone would have told him."   
He thought of Lucius Malfoy, and the warnings that he had received at the end of last year.   
No, they would as soon to exonerate him as they would to join Dumbledore and promote tranquility involving Muggles and Wizarding Folk.  
" Serverus, although I cannot force you to do anything, I can urge you to remember what great assistance your work had when we last had this problem."   
Serverus stared unbelieving at Dumbledore. " Do you not realize what I'm saying?! Once is fine, Dumbledore, these people can be fooled once. But you have to realize that they are clever beyond their means! They do not forgive quickly, Dumbedore, as they do not forget."   
" I realize you are afraid, although-"   
" I AM NOT AFRAID!" roared Snape, frustrated. Although this did bring on somewhat of a calming result, Snape glared at the Headmaster, unsatisfied, as Dumbledore didn't merely blink. He just continued on his last sentence.   
" Although I do see where you are coming from. And, believe me, Serverus, if I could find another person that has once been accepted into the Dark Circle, and has now joined our side, and is brave enough to risk their lives so that the lives of others will not be taken, I would. But there is no one with such qualifications. There is only you. I am depending on you."   
What was he to say to this? Serverus stared at the headmaster, and it was as if his head was splitting into two different personalities. On one side, there was the argument that he would almost assuredly be killed, and what help could he be to anyone dead? On the other, a smaller, more optimistic voice was coaxing him with the contrary. It was disputing the slight possibility that everything went peachy. 'Think of the hero you'll be, it advocated. Think of how your inside information could make all the difference, and more importantly how you will be hailed for it when we finally do win!' And then the other voice shot it down. 'Who said we're to win,' it inquired.   
" Fine," he said and walked out of Dumbledore's oak door and down the revolving marble steps. Snape, at that moment, greatly resented Dumbledore. It was easy to play leader, he thought, if you don't actually have to get your hands dirty. You just order other people to do it for you. And, Serverus shook his head, people think that you are wise, and they respect you. He respected the spies, the espionage experts, the duelers: the people who risked their lives for good. Not stood in their office and ordered others to; the ones who actually risked their lives so the lives of others could be saved. He laughed dryly. Oh, Serverus, wasn't that what Dumbledore was just talking about? Advocating something that he hasn't done in nearly sixty years. Making it seem like a cake job. A cake job that Serverus was lucky to come out alive of. If he does come back, Serverus noted scowling, if he does live, then at least he'll have permanent life with Harry Potter to deal with when he returns.   
  
Harry Potter was thinking how absolutely wonderful life without Snape would be. He would actually enjoy Potions, maybe, if Professor Lupin was teaching it- and maybe he would do good in it, as it was, Potions was his worst subject. So far, three weeks had passed since the death of Mrs. Figg, and three weeks he had lived in the castle. Harry'd been down to see Dobby five times so far, and had delighted the elf each time with a particularly ugly pair of socks. He was regarded as his hero. It was a nice feeling to be someone's hero, and only at the expense of Uncle Vernon's moldy old socks. Wile Harry was pondering what he was going to buy next Tuesday in Hogsmeade when Hedwig swooped in and nearly landed on his head.   
" Hullo, Hedwig. Brought me something?" he asked her, and she lifted her leg so he could pry off the small, neat letter that was attached to it.   
" Well, not from Sirius, eh? Wonder what it is…"   
He recognized Hermione's tidy cursive handwriting on the envelope. He opened the letter with diminutive circumspection, and, just for the sake of doing so, read the letter out loud.   
  
Dear Harry,   
Where in God's name have you been? I've been sending letters to your house, and my the owl I keep sending comes back with marks on him, as though someone might've shoved him out the window. I thought you wanted to be alone or something. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I'm vacationing in Venice this holiday, because I'm sure you forgot. Ron didn't though, and wrote me a letter telling me how wonderful that you were living in the castle. I thought you hadn't sent me a letter for whatever reason, and I got worried. Then I considered maybe you'd sent it to my house by mistake, and so I sent this letter to you to confirm. The thing is, Harry, and I know I'm worrying too much, but that's all I do now. I worry for you, for Ron, for his family, for my family and I. You can't begin to imagine all the things- worst-case scenarios, mostly, that went through my head when you answer. But now I know, and it took a load off my mind, I tell you. So how's life at the castle? Will Dumbledore let you have any guests? Maybe Ron and I can come for the last couple of weeks of summer. Write Back!   
Love from Hermione   
  
Placing the letter aside, Harry realized that he would have to ask permission for Ron and Hermione to come to the castle. Still, he remembered a bit of that conversation between Lupin and Dumbledore in which Dumbledore seemed concerned about Harry's social life. Deciding it shouldn't be a big problem, Harry set up to the third floor. He would go ask Dumbledore right now, and maybe Ron and Herm could stay for longer…. When he approached the Gargoyle, he half- shouted "Droobles Best Blowing Gum!" in its ear, and when it sprang to life, it gave him a very patronizing look. Harry glared back, and set up the revolving marble staircase. Immediately as Harry reached the landing leading into Dumbledore's spacious office, he noticed a green light spanning out from under the oak doorway. The scene instantly was blocked out of Harry's head and in its place he heard the pleas and screams of a young woman, but Harry himself saw nothing… until a bright green flash erupted from the corner and illuminated the scene.  



	2. Realitives, Relizations, and Reverence

Harry gasped. The panorama had changed. Instead of being in Dumbledore's third floor landing, he was standing in a doorway looking into a large room- what appeared to be the salon. His mother- his mother was on the floor in a corner, her wand twenty or so feet in front of her, and her eyes were on the corner adjacent to hers, which Harry couldn't see. Behind her was… was him. A small baby, nearly one year old, was cooing behind the lovely woman that was Harry's mother. And then he heard another voice. A deep and almost sorrowful voice… he recognized it. Voldemort.   
"My dear Lily," said he, " why must you make me do this? You know it is not you I want…" Voldemort's voice was calm and cool, and- hate bundled up in Harry's stomach- he seemed to be enjoying himself…  
  
Harry heard a cry emitting from the child as Lily backed up further.   
  
" I will ask you please. I do not enjoy begging for Mercy, but as I love Harry too much I will risk my pride to do so. And my life. Take me, Tom-"  
  
Tom? Harry thought. Tom? Why is she calling Voldemort Tom?  
  
"-Not Harry. What could you possibly get out of killing a small, harmless child?"  
  
" More than you know, darling Grand-daughter," Voldemort spat the last word out like poisonous venom, "For the prophecy states-"  
  
"The prophecy is fictitious. You know that." Although Lily Potter was facing certain death, her voice matched Voldemort's calm tone, and Harry could tell that she was trying- as magic had failed- to talk her way out of demise.   
  
" I do not believe so, Lilith. It pronounces the conquer of myself in the " hands of a new-born child, black of hair and green of eyes-"  
  
" That could be any child! Not Harry!" Panic was starting to form in the emerald green eyes of Lily Potter. " How could you kill your own family? Your own blood! Hell will open it's gates for you, Thomas Marvelo Riddle!"   
  
" Quiet, you silly girl!" Voldemort; although Harry couldn't see him, seemed to be getting madder and madder as Harry's Mother did not move. Maybe, for some odd reason, he really did not wish to kill her.   
  
Lily, seeing that the only thing possible for her to do now was beg, began to do so.   
  
" Grandfather," she pleaded, " Grandfather, please, don't do it. Wasn't it you who… who always said that… that blood is thicker than water? Spare us…"   
  
The scene began to fade, and slowly Harry realized that he was laying down on some kind of couch, and, inspecting his surroundings, realized that he was in Dumbledore office. Dumbledore himself was standing over Harry, that all- familiar worried look on his aged face.   
  
" Harry? Harry're you okay? Harry?" The voice was almost familiar, almost…   
As Harry began to regain consciousness, he recognized it as Dumbledore's.   
  
" S-sir? I just- I saw-"  
  
" Harry, it is very important that you tell me exactly what you saw."   
  
Harry blinked, and was going to ask to just…think for a moment… when he remembered what Dumbledore had said earlier about how things only got harder to talk about when you prolonged talking about them. So, taking a deep breath, he told Dumbledore in exact detail everything that he had witnessed.  
  
" Well, that's… well, Harry, I must tell you that is true."   
  
" What?" Harry asked, his brain still a bit fuzzy.  
  
" Your mother was indeed the Grand-daughter of Lord Voldemort."   
  
" B-but that means that- that I'm- I'm Voldemort's Great Grandson."   
  
Dumbledore nodded gravely. " I assume that your wand connection has something to do with that. Family wands are almost always connected to one another in one similarity or another."   
  
  
Harry stared at Dumbeldore. The term " family" did not sit well with him.   
" Dumbledore," he said, " Voldemort and I are not- no matter what- family. We may be related, but that's as far as it goes. I mean, look at me and the Dursleys. We're related, and I live- er, lived with them, but we were not a family. See what I mean? It takes a special- bond- to be a family. And, to admit it, I never really knew a honest-to-goodness, full-blown family. Ever. Guess I just got the short straw, s'all."   
  
Dumbeldore stared at him. " You are right, of course, and I take back that last comment. I realize that this is a lot for you to take in right now, and I'm sorry that you need to go through it. Although I cannot tell you why now, your existence on the side of good in this battle against Voldemort is crucial, Harry. Just like it was last time."   
  
" Why can't you tell me now? Why? You know, Dumbeldore, you know everything. You know all the answers to the questions that keep me up late at night- questions about my family, about me. About why I lived."  
  
" I'm having strange premonitions that I can't explain. Something- or someone-is trying to make me remember. Trying to make me never forget. And it's driving me insane!"   
  
Dumbledore nodded sympathetically.   
  
" Other orphans don't have to see, hear, and feel exactly what their parents did before they died-"  
  
" I understand that, Harry," Dumbledore cut in, " but you have to take into account how very unique you are, how you saved so many lives with the accident that you caused. I don't know why that curse rebounded, but I have my theories. For instance, I've read about a very, very old charm that people use to protect the ones they love. During the days of Voldemort, it was extremely popular; every time a wizard or witch was born it was performed.   
Sadly, the charm didn't always work. You see, every person executing this charm- there could be at least one and at most one hundred- had to love the person in question more than they loved their life. As humans are naturally selfish creatures, half of the time it didn't work, but, in my theory, for you it did. I know for certain that it was done when you were born, and I am positive that your mother and father performed it alone. They would allow nobody else to be included, and only the ones who agreed whole-heartedly were praised as truly loving you. Among these were your Professors Lupin and Figg, and Sirius Black."  
  
Harry was confused. He asked the Headmaster why those people who agreed were hailed for loving him the most.   
  
" You see, Harry, increasing the number of people involved dramatically decreases the possible success of the charm. Do you understand that the more people involved, the more feelings involved?"   
  
" Yes," replied Harry.   
  
" Alright, then, I suppose that is all. Do you feel any more closure now that you know my theory?" Dumbledore asked.   
  
" Yes and no. I know now that my mother and father must have loved me exceptionally to do such a thing, and that gives me sort of a hope. Maybe there's a exception. Maybe there's something to do with the scar, and them, and," Harry paused as a question occurred to him.   
  
" Professor, I thought you said that the Avera Kedavra curse is unable to be blocked."   
  
" I did, Harry," said he, " and that is why I am trying to make it prominent that my theories are just that, theories, presumptions, guesses. It is indeed unclear as to if the Avera Kedavra curse to be blocked, but you, or your parents, did block it. That's what I don't understand."   
  
Harry nodded and stepped out of the office, forgetting completely about his original cause of seeking out Dumbeldore. No, Ron and Hermione can wait. He had a great deal of thinking to do.   
¤ ¤ ¤   
  
Ron paced- well, tried to pace around his small living quarters.   
No word from Harry in almost a month was strange. Very strange. Un-Harry-like. Tomorrow he and Hermione would be going to Diagon Alley to get their supplies, and that was a trip that, in the past, all three had attended to. It was sort of like something to look forward to at the end of the summer. When he had tried to owl Harry, nothing but an empty Pig had come back. At least Ron knew that Harry was reading the letters- he has to be reading the letters, right?   
  
But what if he wasn't?  
What if at this very moment, a spy for Voldemort is reading all about Sirius, reading all about everything? That last letter Ron had sent Harry wasn't exactly that conspicuous; nothing more than ordinary, at least. But what if whoever it was is intercepting other letters, also? Anyone with half a brain could figure out that they knew about something they shouldn't. It was all in their letters. All in Ron's, in any case. Well, he knew Harry was staying at Hogwarts; that was perhaps the last letter he had received from him. Last month. Something was wrong.   
Ron dashed down the stairs almost bowling over Ginny. She sent a stream of curses at him, struggling to get up.   
" Sorry, Gin!" Ron called behind him as he went flying down flight after flight. When finally reaching the bottom, he popped into the kitchen.   
" Hullo, Mum. Any idea where Dad is?"   
" Yes, dear. He's out in the garage playing with his plug collection. I swear, that man -"  
" Thanks, Mum." To the garage. Ron went through the kitchen and into a small side door. Upon arriving in the garage, he didn't see dad, but instead Penelope Clearwater, Percy's Girlfriend.   
  
" Dad? D- oh hi Penny- Percy's out back."   
  
" Oh, thanks Ron." She stepped to the side and was about to go through the door when she turned.   
  
" Ron?"  
  
"Hmm?" Ron reached down to open the garage. In the back of his head, something said, " isn't that strange? The garage door isn't open and Penny was here…" but he chose to ignore it.   
  
" Is Percy…uh…okay? He's been acting really strange lately and I was wondering -"   
  
Ron stifled a laugh. Yeah, he'd been acting strange, but he didn't know why until last week when he heard Percy talking to Bill in low whispers late at night. He was using that felly-tone thingy that Dad installed two years ago, and he seemed excited. Everyone else was in bed.   
  
" Yeah- yes I know, yes, yes- but you know I have a job- uh huh- and I think I could support her-" he sighed angrily, "Fine, Bill, I know I can support her- yeah, next Sunday, we're riding out to the country and I'm going to ask her then," he paused, listening, " Yes, I know. But you're the only one I'm telling in this family, you should be touched," he laughed, " But don't expect to be the Godfather of our children or anything, unless you cut your hair and get rid of that earring -" This was where Ron choked the Pumpkin Juice he was sipping. Children? Then it all clicked. Percy and Penelope had been going out for three years, in and out of Hogwarts. Percy and Penelope Clearwater were going to get married! Well, he reminded himself, that is if she says yes- which she's bound to do, of course, looking at my brother-   
  
" Uh, Penny I think it's work. He has a big Cauldron Assembly next month in which he plans to discuss," he imitated Percy's nasal-like voice, ' The several problems, quandaries, predicaments, and setbacks that have to do with Cauldron thickness, make, and size.' Sure it'll be- er- really- er- interesting. Yeah, interesting."  
  
" Yes, I agree. I think his work is just fascinating, don't you? The things he'll do to change our world some day -" she beamed.   
  
Although Ron didn't think that inquiring about cauldron thickness was not going to dramatically change or revolutionize their world, he simply nodded. Percy had found his girl after all.   
¤¤¤  
  
Hermione Granger stood outside Hogwarts. Harry Potter is going to hang, she thought. Not answering my letters for a month with all this crap that's going on with Voldemort; we'll see about him.   
  
She marched up to the front doors, and, thinking for a moment, rapped sharply on one.   
The look on Professor McGonagall's face when she opened the door was priceless.   
  
"Miss Granger?" she said, studying Hermione. "Can I ask what you're doing here?"   
  
" Yes, Professor. I'm- er- here to see Harry."   
" Oh, yes, then come in, won't you?" she stepped aside. Hermione entered the castle, and recoiled. About fifty house- elves were visible from where she stood, all cleaning the floors, staircase, doors, and windows.   
  
" Professor? I have to ask you a question, " she said. " Do you or do you not think that the usage of House elves is the same as slavery?"   
  
McGonagall stopped in her tracks and stared at Hermione. " You know, Hermione, I don't think so. Not here. Before employing each elf, Professor Dumbledore asks them how much they would like to be paid, what vacation days they want, etcetera. Most of the house elves think that it is shameful for them to receive any payment, and as that would not be the case for us, it is custom with them. At Hogwarts, we only want happiness for the elves, and we appreciate what they do for us. I don't expect you to understand now, but as you get older, I think you will. That's just the way it is. You have to accept it."   
  
But Hermione didn't want to accept it. It was slavery. Slavery plain and clear, and if everyone else didn't see it that way it was perfectly fine. She could continue the "House Elf Liberation Front" as Ron had been calling it, all alone.   
  
" Professor? Can I see Harry?" she requested.  
  
" Yes, yes he's in his room, I believe. In Gryffindor Tower, you know."   
  
" Oh, okay. Thank you," Hermione told her and walked up the Grand Staircase. When she got to the second floor landing, she sighed, depressed. She could see at least thirty or so more house elves, still cleaning and dusting, and they all turned to bow at her.  
  
" Oh, don't bow to me," she snapped, " You shouldn't bow me. I haven't ever done anything for you. But," she almost laughed at the startled looks on their staring faces, the thirty sets of large, round eyes staring in amazement, " But I'm trying. Believe me I'm trying."   
With that she walked past them and vanished behind the curtain. Oh, this is going to be a very, very good day.   
  
¤¤¤  
  
  
Ron was standing in front of Hogwarts, bellowing at Percy.   
" You know I never would have asked you to take me, since your involvement in all situations makes it so much better and easier!"  
  
Percy ruffled like a hen. " Well, you did, little brother!" Ron almost laughed, he was actually, in the moment, staring down at Percy. Having grown almost four inches over the summer, Ron was now taller than every member in his family, including Bill. Last week the twins gave him a crisp, (that he shouldn't have accepted, mind you,) which dyed him green from head to tow, and everyone started calling him the " Jolly Green Giant." Yeah, Ron's had a great summer. Lost in his thoughts, he was barely aware that Percy was still talking.   
"And I'm sorry if you find my conversations 'dull and boring,' but cauldron thickness is extremely important-"   
  
Ron grinned at him brightly, " G'bye, Perc," he said, and walked towards the door. He could hear Percy screaming at him about insolent younger brothers and why exactly he should thank his lucky stars for Percy's extensively important research and BS like that- but Ron blocked it out. He should, Ron decided, thank his lucky stars that Percy wasn't in Hogwarts anymore, and therefore he wouldn't have to deal with Percy for a year. Going to Hogwarts early was actually his Dad's idea. Ron had gone to consult him about the Harry situation, and his only solution was to go to Hogwarts, since that's where Harry was.   
  
He walked up to the giant oak door and wrapped sharply. In about five minutes the door swung open, and Ron was faced with Argus Filch.   
  
"What're you doing here?" He said to Ron, his beady eyes suspicious.  
  
" I'm here to see Harry Potter," Ron replied. " Is he here?"   
  
" Yes, he's here," Filch replied, but didn't move, " Why do you want him?"   
  
" Because."   
  
" Well you're going to have to give me a better reason than that."   
  
Ron raked his fingers through his hair and have an exasperated sigh, I just want to see him, okay? " he half- screamed at Filch, "Can I please enter the castle now? Or would you rather go get Dumbledore, he'll straighten this out for you -"   
  
" Alright, alright," he stepped aside, and, obviously bored with Ron, disappeared down an adjacent hallway.  



	3. The Beginner's Guide to Necromancy??!

Ron began to trek up the stairs towards the Gryffindor Tower, where Harry'd be sleeping. It was just a lucky chance that he found him there, in the common room, actually, with someone…  
  
" Hey, Ron!" Harry jumped up, " What're you doing here?'  
  
" Well, you haven't been answering my freaking letters lately so I --"  
  
" Thought the Dark Forces had intercepted them?" came the other voice, which Ron recognized as Hermione's. Right now she had her back to him, and the thing was she'd done something to her hair, that's why he didn't identify her first. It was sleek and shiny- like from those hair product commercials- absolutely perfect.  
  
" Naturally," said Ron, a small smile playing across his lips. " Hey, Hermione. You've.. you've.." he made gestures to his hair.  
  
" Oh," she said, coming out from behind the couch, " Yeah, er, new shampoo's all."  
  
" Looks good," Ron said.  
  
" Thanks," she smiled.  
  
There was silence for a moment and then Harry's laughter.  
  
" What?" They said, simultaneously.  
  
" Nothing, nothing." He motioned for the portrait hole, and Ron and Hermione followed him to it.  
  
" Er, listen, guys," he said when they were out in the hallway, " I've been having owl trouble."  
  
" Oh?" said Hermoine.  
  
" Yeah, um, there's been really strong winds lately—''  
  
" Yea," said Ron, " those early-September- late August wind's'll kill ya…"  
  
Caught in a lie, Harry shrugged. " Ok, ok. Look, I wanted to keep it a surprise, but you've bleated it out of me…" he paused for effect, but entirely too long, in Ron's opinion…  
  
" What? What's a surprise?" said Hermione, anxiously.  
  
" C'mon," said Harry, motioning to an open door behind him, " I- I can't really explain it…"  
  
Hermione looked skeptical. " What do you mean you can't explain it?" She hurried them along , " What does it look like?"  
  
" It-" Harry ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. " It looks like a light. But not a light. Not- it's not like anything I've ever seen before…"  
  
Ron eyebrows furrowed. " I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."  
  
" Neither do I !" shouted Harry.  
  
But Hermione stood back, her head bent, deep in thought.  
  
" I think- but, that's impossible, there're no —" she was talking frantically to herself, obviously trying to add some kind of factors together in her mind. So far as Ron could tell, by her perplexed and confused looks, the equation wasn't making sense.  
  
But he enjoyed watching her -- her face as she added little aspects and concepts in her head. Added to her expressions, was the way the late afternoon sunlight cast slivers of shine across the top of her head and face. And what a face it was…  
  
With a startled jolt, he realized what he was thinking, and shook his head frantically.  
  
A nasty little voice in his head was shouting " Stop it, you git!" and he had to obey, because the thoughts that he was thinking were—  
  
" Ron! Ron!" He was snapped back to reality by Harry's voice shouting in his ear.  
  
" What? What? I'm coming.." he followed after Harry and Hermione, who had apparently made some major discovery. Whatever there was between him and Hermione would have to wait right now…  
  
***  
  
Harry followed Hermione into a room not far up from where they were standing. It was covered, literally, in books. The wallpaper, oddly, was covered in several clippings from newspapers, books, magazines, everything. The room resembled a smaller library. Tearing his eyes away from the décor, he saw Hermione disappear between to very large bookshelves.  
  
" What is this place?"  
  
Hermione either couldn't hear him or was ignoring him. Stepping out from behind the bookcases, she immersed herself in a book ledge in the corner. Harry couldn't believe how many books this tiny room held. Books of all shape and size. Harry skimmed his fingers over a couple of titles.  
  
" 'The Mysterious Forces Within us,' eh?" He looked incredulously at Hermione. " What is all this stuff?"  
  
" Books, Harry," she said quickly, rummaging through a box in the corner. " I do believe that you should look into them. Amazing things, they are…"  
  
Harry pretended to be hurt for a second, then went off to find Ron.  
  
" Harry, you've got to see some of this stuff!" Ron exclaimed when Harry found him. He was crouched in a corner, examining several books shoved into yet another box.  
  
" What?"  
  
" These books, they're… you won't find them in the library, to be sure."  
  
" Why not?"  
  
" Well…" said Ron, picking up one and straitening to show Harry, " Look at the title on this one."  
  
Harry did, and shrugged. It said " A Beginner's Guide to Necromancy," by C. Jill Prescott.  
  
" So?"  
  
" So it's Necromancy! They won't teach us necromancy at Hogwarts because it's too dangerous. There are only a few known Necromancers in the country, and they're all secluded somewhere. Don't ask me why, but I think it's because their power is so developed, that—especially now that You-know- who's come back to power—if anyone was to get a hold of any of them, I wouldn't want to even think of what could happen."  
  
Harry didn't get a chance to answer, for Hermione had just popped behind them suddenly. " Harry, Ron!" she exclaimed, out of breath and excited, " I've found it!"  
  
"What?" they both said simultaneously, and she shoved a book under their noses.  
  
Harry read the cover.  
  
' The Enchanter's Luminosity' was written at the top of the red leather bound book, in gold and orange lettering. As Hermione dusted the cover off, Harry could make out a warning notice.  
  
Warning: Before reading this tome, you must understand fully the cosmic and mortal danger this craft may bring. It is assumed you are knowledgeable regarding the craft, and mean by the evaluation of this book to further develop your gift. It is by no means humanly you are to plunge into this book without the knowledge necessary to excel in both Necromancy and the skill of the enchanter, for if not, you will be toying with the very fabrication that binds Wizardry . 


	4. Doors are Locked for a Reason

Harry stared at Hermione. " This is Inot/I a book that we want to read."  
  
She stared back. " Oh, Harry, don't be silly. That old warning's just there to scare people off."  
  
Ron, beside Harry, didn't look too convinced either.I"' You will be toying with the very fabrication that binds wizardry?'"/Isaid, shaking his head, " Herm, c'mon. I don't really want to be noted in history as ' that guy who blew up the world with Harry Potter.'"  
  
" I've already read it," she declared, opening to the first page of the dusty volume. " And look," she read the first line to them in a loud, sure voice, " 'Stranger, I see you have the courage and strength to look past mere warnings. For this you are noted. It is now you will--'"  
  
" To look past warnings? Who in the hell wrote this book, anyway?" Ron snatched the book out of Hermione's hands mid-sentence. He scanned the cover. " Hermione? Did you happen to notice the author? Because if you did—"  
  
" Of course I did, Ron!" she snapped at him angrily, surprising Harry. Ron, however, held on to the book with his life, and snarled at Hermione also, matching her anger.  
  
" Well," he half shouted, " I suppose it Idoesn't /Ibother you to read a book written by Salazar Slytherin?"  
  
Harry looked at Ron, incredulous. " ISalazar Slytherin/I wrote that book?"  
  
" Yeah, look," said Ron, turning his back on Hermione and holding out the book, " Why on earth —"  
  
" I," declared Hermione, " look past authors, to the contents of the book—"  
  
" Sometimes the author is the most important part of the book," mumbled Harry.  
  
" But—"  
  
Ron nodded in agreement, turning back to her but still keeping his death grip on the book. " It gives you a kind of perspective on what you're going to read, like in this case, you know most of the opinions in this book are going to be biased -- that of an insane, evil—" Ron was cut short when Hermione let out a shrill like a train whistle and raised her wand threateningly.  
  
" If you to will just listen to me, I wouldn't have to put a lock charm on both of your big, oversized mouths!"  
  
" Look, Hermione, all we're trying to say is that you have to realize that —"  
  
" That's IT!" Hermione screamed, her wand pointed at Ron's forehead. " Quietus,"  
  
Then, with lightening reflexes, turned on Harry, and before he could even dig his own wand out of his pocket— " Quietus."  
  
" Now," she told them, oddly calm, if you'll justI listen/I to me…"  
  
Harry threw his hands up in the air, and Ron seethed.  
  
" Right, so, somewhere in our third year, I was wandering around and came upon this little library. You see- the main library is filled well to its capacity with books, so they had to stash some here. Some of these books," she said, holding up ' The Enchanter's Luminosity,' " were supposed to be in the restricted section, but I guess someone didn't want to go through all of the trouble- and here you go." She sat down in a small chair in front of the boys. " Following me so far?"  
  
Ron, who couldn't believe that he actually liked her twenty minutes ago, shook his head, and tried to get his wand out, but Hermione stopped him.  
  
" Please, Ron, just listen to me? Please? I just want to explain this to you, and I know that if you break that charm you'll be screaming at me-"  
  
At this point, Ron nodded vigorously, but got his wand out of his pocket. There was a brief point of time where Hermione got up and cursed angrily at Ron, then walked out, before Ron could get the counter- charm to work.  
  
When he finally did, and Harry could again talk, they both went to find and scream at Hermione.  
  
" What the hell's gotten into her?" Ron asked Harry, shaking his head. " You realize that she's reading a book written by the man who wanted to refuse admittance to Hogwarts to all of the muggle-borns? And Ishe's /Ia muggle born. Honestly—"  
  
For once, Harry could not think of anything to say. He had no idea why Hermione would possibly want to read that book, even if it did have something to do with that light source that he was telling them about earlier.  
  
" Wait! Ron…" Harry shouted at his friend as he suddenly stopped short. " I think I know where she might be."  
  
" Where?"  
  
" The light source. You know, the Enchanter's Light thing… maybe she went to try and find it."  
  
Ron shrugged. " It's worth a shot."  
  
So they walked towards the place that Harry had spent most of his summer in, the room in which he spent long hours feeling that feeling that came along with the light. It was, he supposed, a warm sort of feeling. But all lights came with a sort of warmth, he reminded himself, so what makes this one any different? Because, there was something else as well. A sort of inner warmth. Like, Harry pointed out, the feeling he got when he first tasted Butterbeer. A warming from the inside out. And, considering recent events, like the death of Cedric Diggory, depression and sadness often occupied most of his thoughts. He still, although most kept insisting the latter, that it was Harry's own fault that Cedric died. If Harry had gotten to that statue first- had not insisted that Cedric and he touch the Triwizard Cup at the same time… then, Cedric would be alive, and he wouldn't have had to die for no good reason. Pondering all of this gave Harry just the mostI awful/I feeling anyone could ever imagine, and the strange light, while mystifying and bizarre, gave Harry happiness; Restlessness… something that he had not experienced for months and months. Harry wondered if that feeling had something to do with the light's perplexing power. Maybe—  
  
" You know, I really just don't believe her," Ron said, loudly, cutting through Harry's train of thoughts like a knife. " She's… just…"  
  
" Impenetrable?" offered Harry.  
  
" Yeah, but not in the way that she's stupid, I mean, she's anything but." Ron stopped walking and leaned against the wall, staring at the spot adjacent to him, aparantly thinking a great deal. " She, she just doesn't listen, you know? I was trying to tell her—before she just shut me up, that I think I've heard of that book before. Something like it—that was also written by Sytherin—was on my father's " most dangerous" list, as far as books. If he were to come across a muggle reading that book, he would have to call for backup; the Minister would have to get involved. It's just that dangerous."  
  
Harry scowled at the thought of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. In Harry's opinion, a lot more could be done by the ministry in the Voldemort Situation, and Fudge, being the git that he was, was still in denial of Voldemort's return.  
  
" Well… I suppose the only thing to do now is to get on moving… sorry about that interruption, Harry, but… I dunno… that book just gave me a weird feeling… as soon as Hermione read the warning on the front cover… I just got a chill, you know?"  
  
" Yeah, I know. Well.. considering some of the things it said, who wouldn't?"  
  
Ron nodded as they turned a corner. Harry could make out a crack of light underneath the door of the room. Odd, the thought, the door's not usually closed. He walked over to it, frowning, and tried the door knob. Puzzlement turned to amazement and disbelief. " What in the hell?"  
  
" Hmm?" said Ron, walking up beside Harry. " What's the matter?"  
  
" The… the door's… it's locked."  
  
Ron stared at Harry, " Yeah? So?"  
  
" S-so… it's locked, Ron, I can't…"  
  
" Really, is Ieveryone/I going insane? Budge over." Ron stood in front of the lock, jingled the doorknob, and bent over it. " Alohmora," Harry heard him whisper.  
  
It happened very fast. Sound, it seemed, was temporarily impeded. Harry saw everything in brighter, more vivid colors then ever before. And he heard nothing, not even the beat of his heart or the pulse of his veins. Ron mouthed a scream, fell over and crashed to the floor, knocked out cold. Harry, panicked at the thought of losing his hearing, could not do anything but just stand there, Then, very sudden as well, a message flashed itself across the inside of his eyelids.  
  
I" Doors are locked for a reason." /I 


End file.
